A Child of Two Worlds
by scifiromance
Summary: What would've happened if T'Pol had gotten pregnant after "Harbinger"? Will T'Pol and Trip be able to cope with a baby that's both Vulcan and Human? T'Pol/Trip. Plot used with the kind permission of the original author, TheFoundersDaughter.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: Hi, this is my first Enterprise fic but the plot may seem familiar. This is because MidnightVampireCharlotte originally came up with the plot but can no longer write it so I'm taking it over, the first six chapters will use her work as a template. This chapter is set just after "Harbinger" during which T'Pol and Trip slept together. I hope you enjoy!**

Unbidden, images of Trip appeared once again in T'Pol's mind. Irritated by this illogical preoccupation with Enterprise's Head of Engineering, she squeezed her eyes tight shut and once more attempted to fall back into the silent equilibrium of Vulcan meditation but within a few minutes the nausea she had been suffering from constantly for the last four days reasserted itself again and as her eyes reluctantly fluttered open her vision swam, suddenly she seemed to be sitting on two mats rather than one and she had to shake her head in rid herself of the double vision. Semi-consciously her body rocked back and forth in an attempt to settle her stomach as she mulled over the possible reasons for her turn of ill health. Vulcans didn't really suffer nausea unless they had eaten something which disrupted their digestive system and she had eaten nothing unusual, she couldn't blame it on alien contact either, the Enterprise had recently entered an unprecedented period of respite from such complications and as far as she was aware Phlox had reported no sudden outbreaks of viruses, none that would effect her anyway. She sighed to suppress annoyance; with all those explanations discarded the only logical thing to do was to visit Dr Phlox. Standing up with a slow stiffness which surprised her, she made her way to Sickbay.

Phlox smiled at her somewhat absentmindedly as she entered but her face must have betrayed her for he left what he was doing and approached her, a look of kindly concern on his face as he greeted her. "Hello T'Pol, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I have been feeling nauseous for the past four days…" She paused as she repressed the hint of self annoyance she could hear in her voice before continuing, "I wish to know why please." As these words left her mouth, bile rose up with them and she had to cover her mouth with a delicate hand to force her to choke it back.

"Come and sit down while I scan you." He replied but before she had a chance to do so the need to vomit overwhelmed her and she ran to Sickbay's bathroom where she promptly threw up in the toilet. She felt a prickle of embarrassment up her back as she straightened and wiped the back of her hand hurriedly across her mouth but consoled herself with the thought that Phlox would have seen a lot worse as she walked back into the room.

"I apologise Doctor, I haven't been feeling myself recently." Trip's voice suddenly entered her head, "In more ways than one." It said. A frown crossed her face at the direction of her own thoughts as she sat down on the biobed furthest from the unwanted exposure of the doorway.

As Phlox scanned her his expression changed rapidly from concern to shock before clouding over in confusion. "T'Pol, I don't want to pry but…" He cleared his throat awkwardly, causing T'Pol to tense up, though she wasn't sure why. "…have you been involved in a…_relationship_ with another member of the crew? Romantically I mean…" he trailed off, he didn't consider himself an easily embarrassed man but he was now.

T'Pol shifted awkwardly, obviously uncomfortable with the question. "Does it matter Phlox?"

He smiled with a slight wry nervousness. "Actually, it matters a lot." He said as he handed her the scanner.

Reading the results T'Pol's skin drained of colour to the point of appearing ivory. "This cannot be accurate." She hands him back the scanner, her hands so shaky she almost drops it. "It's not possible." The quavering in her voice seriously detracts from her efforts to remain strong and unmoved. "Scan me again." She ordered abruptly before bringing herself back under control and explaining, "To be certain the results are accurate."

Humouring her, he scanned her again. "The results _are_ accurate T'Pol." He notes T'Pol's very un Vulcan like audible gulp and neither of them hear the swoosh of the doors as he continues, "Who, if I may ask, is the father?"

Blushing deep green her lips part to tell Phlox but she is interrupted by another, broken and strained, voice. "Looks like your _experiment_ worked then." Both aliens turn to see Trip standing just inside the doorway, the humans who had obviously been passing by frozen and staring.

"Trip…" she started in a painful whisper but could get no further as the waves of anger and resentment emanating from him hit her and blocked all words. Logic seemed useless in such a situation.

"Save it." He said in a cold monotone, fists clenched to his sides as he turned on his heel and left, visibly enraged.

Phlox, who was turning his head back and forth like a pendulum between the Vulcan, who now had crossed her arms protectively round her abdomen and hung her head despondently, and the humans still paralysed by shock outside, said quietly, "I take it _he_ is…"

T'Pol interrupted him, her body numb and her voice listless. "The father? Yes…" At this self confirmation of the situation, a lone tear escaped her and slid brokenly down her cheek. She felt rejected, more that that, the child had been rejected. Her child. Trip's child. _Their _child. For the first time in the over six decades of her life, she fully understood and experienced the utter bleakness and abandonment of heartbreak.

**A/n: So that's the first chapter! Please review and maybe send a nice private message to MidnightVampireCharlotte since this is merely my version of her work. I**_** will **_**update within a week at the most but I've got three ongoing Voyager fics as well so please give me some leeway. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

Trip paced around his quarters like a caged animal, breath escaping in panicky spasms as thoughts whirled around his head with more violence than the hurricanes he'd witnessed in childhood. Pain shooting through his legs as he collided with his coffee table brought him back to his senses enough to let the adrenaline leave him and he sank into the sofa, staring into space, literally as at warp the stars sped by his window dizzyingly fast. What the hell had just happened? He wondered as he sank back, you treated the mother of your child like a piece of dirt that's what, his own mind answered. Anger, no longer at the situation but at himself, surged through him as he remembered T'Pol's guilt filled, sorrowful gaze and he punched the nearest wall until his knuckles bled, the frustration slowly seeping out with his blood and partly rational thought returning. He knew in his heart that T'Pol had been lying when she'd called him an experiment but her turning out to be pregnant made him think it wasn't a complete lie, maybe T'Pol had desired a baby? No, she wasn't selfish like that and besides what was logical about a half human Vulcan? Did it matter in the long run? He had wanted her and she him, whatever their internal reasons and that had resulted in a baby, their baby… He stood up, catching a glimpse of a family photograph out of the corner of his eye, all those talks about responsible sex and the perils of one night stands didn't exactly work did they Dad? He thought wryly but with a more serious concern underneath, would he and T'Pol ever be able to give this child the stable, happy upbringing it deserved? We're not exactly off to the best start, he conceded regretfully as he made his way to Engineering, desperate to escape into simpler forms of problem solving, at least for a little while. Despite his hopes to the contrary, the shifty stares he received and the undecipherable whispers he heard on his way there told him he didn't have long to learn how to cope.

T'Pol made her way to her post on the bridge within ten minutes of her revelation in Sickbay but as soon as she entered she deeply regretted her decision to dismiss her impulse to hide in her quarters as illogical and unnecessary, standing being the centre of a storm of speculation was proving to be much more shameful as every time she moved the undercurrent of conversation stopped abruptly and the eyes that had been fixed on her automatically fled downwards to control panels. Finally she couldn't take it anymore, did they all know of her turmoil, was nothing to be private, even the pain of rejection? "May I assist any of you in some way?" she asked to no one in particular, glaring icily round the room defiantly.

Eyes shifted uneasily from face to face before almost all of them settled on Hoshi. Why is it always me? Just because I'm the on board languages expert doesn't mean I know how to say _everything_, Hoshi mentally complained as she said, "Fine, I'll ask." Her courage melted away under the Vulcan's direct gaze so she only managed to whisper weakly, "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" T'Pol could hear the challenge in her own voice and hoped that no one would take it up but it wasn't to be.

"That you're pregnant…" Everyone in the room, including much to his own shame Archer, held their breath as Hoshi pressed the main point of contention. "…and that it's Trip's kid."

Although she had been expecting the question, T'Pol couldn't stop green blood flooding her cheeks and emotion she couldn't control making her voice frighteningly shaky. "I…would…rather not discuss this…matter." As soon as she forced the words out she allowed her herself the scant protection of staring determinedly down at her console, though she had to grip the edges to remain standing.

After a minute or two Archer began to speak, approaching her cautiously. "T'Pol…"

Her head snapped up and her voice was as wild and abrupt as the movement. "I said I did not wish to discuss it!" She saw Archer stop in shock and complete mortification hit her, she had just lost her temper with her commanding officer, she had acted no better than a low Klingon brute! Tears sprang to her eyes, Trip, what have you done to me…

Archer comes up to her and places a gentle hand on her shoulder as he meets her eyes. "Go to your quarters." Her lips part but she has no idea what to say. He sighs and steps back. "That's an order Sub-Commander." Unsure whether to be angered by or grateful for the release, T'Pol turned on her heel and fled to her quarters.

Archer spent the next three hours holed up in his ready room, considering what, if anything, he should do. On one hand he was loathe to intervene in the personal affairs of not only two of his officers but two of his friends but on the other hand he knew it would be detrimental to the smooth running of the ship and as Captain he certainly couldn't allow that. Making his decision he tapped his comm. badge. "Archer to T'Pol."

"T'Pol here." Her reply is exactly what he'd come to expect of her, measured and controlled.

"I expect you in my ready room in ten minutes." There was no point in small talk after all.

A hesitant frustration enters her tone. "Captain, with all due respect…"

Cutting her off he says crisply, "That's an order."

The comm. badge practically reverberates with her resigned sigh. "Yes…Captain."

With that part over with, he moves on to Trip. "Archer to Tucker."

"Trip here Cap'n." He sounded strained but unsuspecting. Archer couldn't help but feel a little guilty for corralling his friend like this.

"Could you come to my ready room in ten minutes?"

"Sure Cap'n, be right there."

As the comm. system clicked off, Porthos rose from his basket in the corner and stuck an understanding head under Archer's hand who petted him distractedly as he sank back in his chair to wait. Maybe I should have taken that Academy course in counselling…

**A/n: Please review! This chapter was hard to write!**


	3. Chapter 3

T'Pol shifted slightly on the couch in Archer's ready room, his silent, pondering gaze beginning to unnerve her. Waiting for the rant to start was proving to be more torturous than actually listening to it, had her revelation disturbed him so deeply that he could no longer talk to her frankly? The doorbell suddenly rang loudly through the room, T'Pol shot Archer an embarrassed look but he ignored her concerns, for what reason she would soon learn. "Enter." Archer said, turning in his chair to observe the two reactions as Trip strode confidently in.

No, no. This _cannot_ be happening. T'Pol mentally chanted as soon as she saw Trip, who halted abruptly at the sight of her, appearing momentarily panicked before his eyes swivelled to Archer to send him what can only be described as a slightly less murderous glare than the one he was already receiving from a mortified T'Pol. Archer was almost tempted to raise his hands defensively, but found it ironic that the _couple_, for that was undeniably what they were now, were so utterly united by their anger with him. Noticing that neither was moving, he indicated the sofa to Trip, who with reluctance sat at the opposite end from T'Pol, as far away as he could get as anger changed to embarrassment. Archer ran a hand through his hair with a sigh, "So…" he began carefully, "Do you mind telling me how…" He glanced sheepishly at T'Pol and grasped around for an appropriate word, finding none. "…how _this_ happened?"

T'Pol let her eyes study her finely shaped hands resting on her lap for a moment before answering, in a manner she knew the Captain would find unsatisfactory. "I would…rather not."

Her stalling tactic didn't work, only earning her a stern glare from Archer. "It wasn't a request."

Trip and T'Pol share an anxious and embarrassed glance before Trip decides it's his turn to step up to the plate. "It was just a one-night thing. Neither of us knew this was going to happen, well she probably did, but anyway…" Stung by the veiled accusation, T'Pol couldn't stop the hurt from hovering on her face and Archer saw it, glancing at Trip who hadn't noticed. Good God man, don't you know the woman you're sleeping with? He thought but kept listening as Trip continued. "…It was when we were having our neuro-pressure sessions about a month ago…" As he said these words Trip saw Archer's eyebrows rise as if saying, neuro-pressure sessions huh? Irritated he continued on, "She still won't admit it but she was jealous I was spending so much time with a MACO and not with her." T'Pol felt her strained nerves snap as he flashed that boyishly handsome grin at her.

"I was _not _jealous!" She exclaimed loudly, offended.

"Yes, you were." He couldn't help his grin getting wider as she became so obviously riled up.

"I was not!" T'Pol retorted, her glare becoming more and more deadly with every passing second. "Jealousy is an emotion. Vulcans do not allow emotion, it is illogical. _Humans_, on the other hand do and if my memory is correct is it you who was experiencing jealousy."

Seeing the threatening glow in her eyes Trip backed off, hands high in the air. "All right, all right." Then, just loud enough for T'Pol's pointed and exceptionally sensitive ears, "You were." With that sly comment T'Pol felt perfectly within her rights to squeeze the pressure point on his neck, _hard_.

The crew on the Bridge heard the scream and were all grateful not to be in Travis' or Hoshi's shoes at that moment, standing with their ears pressed tight against the door. Pulling back with ringing ears they share a childish grin of discovery before turning to the rest and chorusing, "Trip's definitely the dad!"

Happy smiles followed that news, as did a lot of conversation. "I wonder how'll they'll handle it?" "Will they be sent packing back to Earth?" "Will they raise it together or will T'Pol take it back to Vulcan?"

Due to her at the moment inconveniently good hearing, T'Pol could hear every word of this and scowled with dread for she knew that some time soon she'd need to face all these questions and more. She was certain of one thing though; there was no way she was taking Trip's child away from him.

"What was that for?" groaned Trip indignantly, rubbing his painful neck.

"_That_ was for saying I was jealous when I was not." She replied coolly with a toss of her head.

Archer, who had been watching this argument with incredulous awe, muttered under his breath, "Just like an old married couple." Or a pair of bickering love struck teenagers, but its all the same really, he added mentally as both heads swivelled in unison to look at him.

"Excuse me?" They both asked incredulously at exactly the same time with mirror expressions. The fact that they'd said it in perfect synchronisation just made Archer's grin split his face even more, confusing and irritating his subordinates even further.

"Well, they do say you can't see love even when it's right in front of you…" He muses but sees their oblivious expressions deepen and laughs at the whole situation before deciding to help them along a little. "You two might not see the love, but everyone else can."

Trip and T'Pol exchanged an uneasy glance. "Sir, what are you talking about?" Trip asks for both of them.

Archer, by now almost crippled with laughter, answered, "You…two…you must be _blind_ not to see it!" They continue to stare at him and he flings his arms into the air in exasperation. _"_You two are in _love _for God's sake!"

By now both officers were avoiding each other's eyes like the plague. Trip was the first to attempt escape. "Sir…I'd really better get back to Engineering…" He stuttered quickly in explanation before hurriedly taking his leave. T'Pol followed in record time after making an excuse about "needing to meditate".

A now at ease Archer sank contently back in his chair with his security reports. _That _had worked out better than he had dared to dream! I think those silly parents of yours are going to owe you one serious favour little baby.

That night neither T'Pol or Trip could sleep. T'Pol because she knew Archer was right…she _did _love him, more than she'd ever thought possible, but also because she was now fully aware of presence of their child living and growing within her.

For Trip it was because _he_ also knew Archer was right and now he wanted, no, needed, to say something to T'Pol. To apologise for how he'd reacted earlier that day, to promise that he'd be there for both the baby and for her… Making a quick fire decision he swung his legs out of bed and tossed on his baggy sports t-shirt and a pair of jogging bottoms and practically ran to T'Pol's quarters.

Meanwhile, T'Pol was lying wide awake on her bunk, questions swirling round her head she knew she'll be unable to answer. Will the Trellium D in my blood affect her? Does Charles even want the child? Will it's health be at risk by being both Human _and_ Vulcan? Her thoughts were interrupted by the insistent, droning chime of her doorbell.

With an audible sigh she clambered out of bed and walked to the door, feeling weighed down with nervous trepidation as she pressed the button to open the door and reveal the visitor. She was shocked by what that one action revealed, a very sheepish Trip now stood directly in front of her. "Hey…can…can we talk?"

**A/n: Please review. **** Does anyone know how long a Vulcan pregnancy is supposed to last? I don't think there's ever been one on-screen during ANY of the Star Treks! As always 99.9% of the credit for this goes to MidnightVampireCharlotte and her brilliant original. (I take 0.1% because I had to put effort into typing this!) **


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey…can…can we talk?"

T'Pol was shocked by the question to say the least, her face paling for a moment before she had the presence of mind to step aside and allow him to enter, closing the door behind him. Even after being given access Trip certainly didn't jump straight into what he'd come there to say, instead he stood stock still in the middle of her room, fists loosely clenched, roaming eyes which refused to meet hers. T'Pol realised her rudeness only after several minutes and said quietly, "Do you wish to sit down?" Her eyes also refused to cooperate, preferring a long study of the carpet to Trip's face.

The memory of what the Captain had said recurred almost spontaneously in both their minds just before Trip awkwardly cleared his throat before answering, "Nah…I'd rather stand if you don't mind…" She nodded silently in acquiescence, arms tightly crossed. It was only now that Trip allowed himself to look at her properly. The blue silk pyjamas only highlighted her slim, diminutive frame, for a moment he couldn't help wondering how a baby could possibly exist, let alone grow, in so tiny a body. He then became aware of T'Pol also watching him and he abruptly brought his eyes back to her face with embarrassment. She looked tired, drained even. Her eyes, to his intense shock, appeared ever so slightly red rimmed. This observation brought back to him why he was really here and he decided to begin. "I just wanted to…um…apologise for…for freakin' out earlier…" He ran a hand through his hair as his resolve petered out.

T'Pol released him from his obligation by cutting him off, her tone heavy, "No. If anyone should apologise it should be me. Your reaction was understandable considering the facts." She breathed a regretful sigh, uncrossed her arms and sat down on the edge of her bed before continuing, "I do not blame you for your anger. I knew my words had angered you…I was just not sure as to how much until this morning. I thought…hoped you would see that my words were untrue."

Trip looked at her and despite the solemnity of the situation he couldn't stop an eyebrow for rising, nor his lips from curving into a small smirk. "So you really were jealous?" he asked with light-hearted softness, trying to lift the mood and quietly acknowledge his _own_ jealousy.

"I did harbour some jealously." T'Pol reluctantly admitted, watching as this commissary revelation put a smile on Trip's face as he sat down on the bed beside her and fondly placed her hand in his.

"It's gonna be okay T'Pol. I know it."

The certainty and strength in his voice made T'Pol smile at him but another nerve racking thought made her tense. "I will have to speak to my mother about this, as you will your parents."

Trip's laugh rang with false lightness as he thought of his mom's reaction, "Yeah, well let's worry about that tomorrow…" He looked at her suddenly glassy eyes with deep concern, "Okay hon?"

She nodded slowly and leaned on his shoulder with a sigh of defeat. "Okay Charles. I will try not to think about it tonight."

"Good." Trip murmured in satisfaction as he kissed her the top of her head. "Now, get some sleep. My dad always told me how cranky pregnant women are when they don't get any sleep."

T'Pol frowned in bemusement, not completely understanding. "Come again?"

Reiterating, he said, "Sleep, please?" At the "please" T'Pol nodded meekly and let Trip pull her into a cuddle as he guided them both down onto her bunk.

No more words passed between them, and eventually they fell asleep in each other's arms, listening to each other's breathing and heartbeats, dreaming of their baby.

"Mother." T'Pol greeted her mother the next morning through a sub-space comm. link, her hand held out in the traditional manner of greeting.

"Daughter." She replies coolly before displaying her usual directness. "What is it you wish to speak to me of?" T'Les' piercing eyes bored relentlessly into T'Pol's, even as T'Pol shifted her gaze and took a deep breath of preparation.

"I have committed a great dishonour."

"And what is this dishonour you speak of? Your emotions have been in turmoil all day, as well as yesterday." T'Les' face was as stoic as ever, even as her daughter's own stoicism wavered.

T'Pol took another steadying breath. "It concerns one of my colleagues, Commander Tucker…" What is my mother going to think? What will she say? "We…are expecting a child."

Anger flashed across T'Les' face for a split millisecond before the same expressionless façade returned. "Are you bonded with this…Commander Tucker?"

"I am unsure at the present moment." T'Pol replied, her voice retaining its cool distance but her eyes vigorously avoiding her mother's.

T'Les sighed. "The High Council has to learn of this. You are pregnant with a human's child, and are possibly bonded with him." Her still face reveals no emotion, except in her eyes which threw hot, fury filled flames at her daughter.

"Mother, I wish to terminate my engagement with Koss. If I am indeed bonded to Charles, then my marriage to Koss would not be real in anyway but name." For the first time she looked directly at her mother. "I will not raise my child away from it's father, I know that pain. I will not allow my child to endure that." T'Pol thought she saw her mother flinch but dismissed it as an impossibility.

"T'Pol, I did not mention Koss, nor did I suggest separating the child from it's father but it would be best for you and the child to live on Vulcan. Raise it as a Vulcan, it has been done before."

T'Pol's face twisted in confusion. "When has that _ever_ been done before?" She asked incredulously, staring at her mother. "No other Human-Vulcan child has ever existed."

Now it was T'Les' turn to avoid eye contact. "Not Human-Vulcan children, but Romulan-Vulcan children. It has happened more than once my daughter." Mentally she cursed herself for bringing this up after so long…

T'Pol was beginning to doubt her mother's state of health, perhaps the shock and shame had affected her mind? "Mother, there are no Vulcan-Romulan hybrids in the High Council's directory. I worked there for many years, I would know if…"

"The High Council keep the hybrids secret, making them believe they are fully Vulcan but with one parent deceased. Whether that parent be the mother or the father depends on which is the Romulan." Her voice became unnaturally agitated, "It's for their own good and for the safety of both the children and…the guilty parent…" She cut herself off.

Throughout T'Les' speech T'Pol's blank mask had been slowly crumbling away as thoughts assaulted her. If the process is so secret, why is my mother so well informed? Why is she telling me this? She thought wildly before the suddenly crucial words crept fearfully from her lips. "Give me an example of one such child."

A slight green flush covers T'Les' cheeks as she says on word, her voice quieter, _weaker_, than normal, "You."

**A/n: T'Pol's origins were going to be revealed as half Romulan if the show had got a fifth series, the producer said so. *Author feels angry at stupid American TV networks for cancelling it on the verge of such a great plotline.* Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/n: Sorry that it's been over two weeks since I updated this, I once again got seriously distracted by my Voyager fics. Enjoy and review please!**

T'Les watched numbly as the comm. screen went blank, for some illogical reason that made the reality of the situation hit her all the more forcibly, Tovik, her husband, was dead. The cold chill of this realisation caused a strangled sob to leave her lips but the shame of that emotional expression quickly suppressed the grief, as it should in any good Vulcan. Yet still it took all her sixty two years of practice to submerge the undercurrents of emotion deep into her subconscious by way of meditation… A small worried voice pierced her calm, "Mother? Is everything alright?"

T'Les turned to see the pixie like face of her seven year old daughter peering at her apprehensively from the doorway of her bedroom. She uttered a heavy sigh before answering, "No T'Pol, it's not."

The little girl seemed to be unnerved by her tone, despite it being resolutely steady. "Is Father still too sick to come home?" She asked with an anxious waver in her childish voice.

T'Pol could see pain cascade over her mother's features as she responded, "He won't be coming home T'Pol. His condition was too severe."

T'Pol stared up at her mother in disbelief. When she finally spoke, her voice had a much higher pitch than usual, her internal emotional war revealing itself to her remotely stoic mother as tears flowed uninterrupted down her thin cheeks, "He's…He's _dead_?"

T'Les' brow furrowed slightly. "Yes." She said quietly but seeing her daughter's face crumple in grief and anger, she allowed her voice to take on a kinder inflection. "He is at peace now child, you must realise that. His Katra is with his family now." With his parents, his mother made that clear enough, added T'Les bitterly in the silence of her own mind. In death they can finally detach him from the dishonour of a polluted wife…

T'Pol was of course oblivious to her mother's mental musings but that didn't make her flying emotions anymore controllable. "And he wasn't at peace with us?" she exploded in a violent shout.

"T'Pol…" T'Les started, almost too shocked at her daughters actions to rebuke but T'Pol was unable to look at her, whirling into her room and slamming the door behind her, loudly. After a minute or two T'Les could hear unrelenting sobs emanating from the room and almost rose to go to her before sense stopped her. No. I cannot encourage such outbursts; it will be better for her in the long run. As for my own emotional impulses, it was my indulging them which created this situation in the first place…

The adult T'Pol stared at her mother with only a slightly more controlled version of her disbelief and angry denial from all those years before. "Mother…" She began sharply, "My father was Vulcan. He may have died when I was seven but I still remember him…" There, a suitable retort to her mother's illogical words.

T'Les sighed. "I know you do, the man you remember _was_ Vulcan but he was _my_ husband, not _your_ father. I married him at the encouragement of the High Council after my pregnancy was discovered…"

"It's impossible! My DNA is _purely_ Vulcan. I would have found out years ago if…"

"Vulcans and Romulans are almost genetically identical, only one gene differs. A simple medical wouldn't be enough to uncover the difference." T'Les replied with resigned calm.

Her mother's voice, destroying all she'd based her life on, rang in T'Pol sensitive ears as her thoughts raged; it would explain a great deal, my peculiar desire for emotional stimulation… She cut that thought off, no, there was no way she could allow herself to speculate, not now, not ever. She could feel tears stinging at her eyes but blinked them back, she couldn't show such emotional weakness in front of her mother and even if that were acceptable her mother didn't deserve the privilege. "I must go. I have duties to attend to." She muttered abruptly in a tone deadened by inner distress.

"T'Pol…" T'Les started but T'Pol cut her off.

"I must go." She reiterated, turning off the comm. without another word and slowly walking to her meditation mat in the darkest corner of her quarters, lighting a sweet smelling candle before sitting down cross legged and pushing herself into the deepest depths of meditation possible, only crying within the white fog of her mind.

Trip was fixing a faulty relay at the end of his shift in Engineering when he felt a sudden grief flow through him, part of him and yet not… The shift change bell interrupted this uneasy feeling and predictably moved his mind to food. His feet moved in the direction of the Mess Hall of their own accord but his mind again moved onto his other main preoccupation, impending parenthood. T'Pol had mentioned last night that she was going to tell her mother sometime today, he didn't want to think of how badly _that_ conversation was going… He already knew _his _ma was going to kill him, for a majorly religious Southern family such as his having kids outside of marriage was a no-no, let alone a half Vulcan kid, as for his dad you could never really tell with him, he _might _be okay with it… He reached the counter laden with pecan pie and all other thoughts left his head.

After an hour of tasty food and relaxed conversation with his Captain, Trip made his way back to T'Pol's quarters, ignoring the knowing looks he got on the way and stepping inside. As his eyes adjusted to the near total darkness he made out the faint glow of candlelight beside a silently meditating T'Pol, what shocked him were the tears glistening on her cheeks, flowing from tightly closed eyes. Carefully he knelt down and touched her arm and her eyes shot open, luminous with sadness and pain. "Hey…" He gently wiped a tear away with his rough thumb, "You alright hon?"

T'Pol hurriedly wiped the tears from her face, stoicism replacing grief. "I am fine."

He could hear the shudder in her voice and wasn't fooled. "You sure T'Pol? You were _crying_." She didn't respond and he grasped nervously around for a reason. "Did…did things not go down so well with your ma?"

"No." She answered monosyllabically.

"What happened?" He saw her hesitate, "You can tell me y'know."

She gulped hard and gazed up at him for a moment. "Our conversation revealed a…disturbing revelation about my parentage." She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, "My father was not the man whom I lived with during my early childhood." Her gaze moved to the floor, her courage abandoning her for several seconds before she spoke again, "My father is… Romulan. Phlox has confirmed it."

Trip's expression changed from concern to shock then back to concern as he gathered her into his arms. "Oh my God T'Pol…I'm so sorry…" She silently pressed her face into the crook of his neck, letting tears escape once again. They sat comfortably like that without talking until T'Pol fell asleep and Trip carried her to her bunk and then lay down beside her. "Sweet dreams hon." He whispered in her ear before letting himself join her in sleep.

**A/n: Please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/n: Hi, I'm finally back! Just to let you know that I've finished rewriting MidnightVampireCharlotte's chapters, this chapter and all further ones are written entirely by me. I hope you still like it!**

The first thing that greeted T'Pol as her mind slid reluctantly into conscious was the feel of Trip's warm muscular arm around her waist but the contented feelings this gave her were quickly washed away as the traumatising revelations of the night before once again forced themselves into the forefront of her thoughts and a small sorrowful groan left her lips as she began to disentangle herself from Trip and lift her head from her damp, tear stained pillow. Her movement caused Trip, still asleep, to start mumbling incoherently, she could make out one word, "T'Pol…" She felt warmth spread through her heart, the bleakness of the situation lessening slightly as she smiled fondly at him and swung her legs out of bed, having to gulp back sudden nausea as she did so. Not this again… She silently moaned as she stood up and the whole room spun. Giving up she ran to her bathroom and vomited until the sensation was finally bearable, splashing water over her flushed face as her head thudded with the strain of it all. Wrapping her thin dressing gown around herself she paused in the doorway as she considered what she would do, maybe if she was quiet enough she could sneak out and start a shift without having to discuss the night before with Trip… Her feet were just beginning to pad across the carpet to her chest of drawers when his unmistakable voice blew her hopes of peace out of the water. "T'Pol? Where are you going hon?"

T'Pol sighed but continued to pull her uniform out of her drawers. "I have a shift this morning. I have already taken enough unscheduled leave…"

Trip sat on the edge of the bed, kindly eyes fixed on her. "No one's grudging you a break T'Pol." He pointed out.

"Be that as it may…" T'Pol spoke sharply, irritated that she had to justify her actions to him.

Trip ran a hand through his hair, that sign of stress was becoming increasingly habitual, T'Pol noted guiltily. "Burying your head in work isn't going to help forever T'Pol; it'll even make it worse in the long run."

"Oh? And what experience do _you_ have of my situation?" T'Pol snapped suddenly, her head lowering in shame as hurt flickered across his features but he still headed towards her and put his arm around her, making T'Pol sigh, "I apologise Charles…"

"No need." He laughed sadly, "I've never been in your situation…but that doesn't mean I can't try to understand. Let's have breakfast okay?"

T'Pol smirked, "Food is your solution to everything." She teased as she obediently headed towards the replicator.

"Hey, if it works, it works!" he retorted laughingly in self defence.

As they began to eat in near total silence the mood darkened once more. Finally Trip asked what had been on his mind since the night before, "Did you ask your mother what happened?"

"No and I don't want to know." She replied coolly before gulping repeatedly as more passionate thoughts welled up within her. "How could she _possibly _have bonded with a Romulan in any way?" she burst out abruptly. "They are an utterly repellent people, manipulative, malicious, untrustworthy…How can I be…"

Trip cut her off. "You're not _repellent_ T'Pol, don't say that! You don't know what happened, I mean look at us…"

"Humans are considered much more tolerable I assure you." Said T'Pol with a completely straight face but Trip couldn't help smiling slightly.

"I'm glad you find me_ tolerable_, but I'm sure many Vulcans would disagree with you. I know you're hurting right now but…"

T'Pol frowned at him before utterly changing the subject. "Have you told _your_ parents about the baby?"

"No…" He stuttered, embarrassed.

"Well I suggest you do." She stood up and snatched up her tricorder. "I'm going to work." She sighed again, "We will talk later." Trip nodded in agreement and when she was out the door he thudded his head against the table, filled with dread.

"Charlie!" Charles Tucker Senior's voice boomed cheerily out of the comm. system. "To what to we owe the pleasure son?"

"Hi Dad." Trip greeted him quietly. "I…I have some news…some _great _news."

His father's face lit up. "So tell me! It can't be a promotion can it?" He laughed proudly, "You can't get much higher than Chief of Engineering on a starship…" Suddenly Trip could hear his mother's voice in the background and stiffened up even further when his dad said, "Oh wait, I'll just call your ma over…"

"No!" Trip exclaimed. Seeing his father frown at him questioningly, he said hastily, "Look Dad, I'd really rather talk to you about it first."

The elder Tucker's face darkened and he apprehensively shifted back in his chair with a sigh. "Okay son, out with it then."

Trip inhaled deeply in preparation, just as T'Pol had taught him. "I'm going to have a baby dad."

His father's face, an elder reflection of his own, paled for a moment before he said levelly, "Right…okay. Is the mother anyone we know? I mean you didn't even tell us you were _involved_ with anyone and now…" He stopped himself as his tone grew more heated.

"I know and I'm sorry. You haven't met her, her name's T'Pol; she's just over a month along…"

"T'Pol?" His father echoed incredulously. "A _Vulcan_?"

Trip felt himself bristle protectively. "I _love_ her Dad, that's all that should matter."

His father studied him for several seconds before exhaling heavily. "That…that's the main thing…of course. Look let me…break this to your mother and I'll call you back, alright?"

"Fine. Thanks Dad." Trip told him gratefully.

He sighed in reply. "Don't thank me yet."

The next hour was an agony for Trip but eventually he was met by his mother's frozen, angered face, her eyes cold and detached with shock. God, she looks worse than the time I was caught bunking off from school… Trip thought, filled with dread as he forced a greeting from his mouth. "Hi Ma."

"Charles." That single word wasn't a greeting but a condemnation, "What are you going to do, marry this…woman? Abandon your career…"

He cut her off. "My career will be fine Mother." He sighed. "As for marriage, I love her but this has all been a bit of a shock…"

"I think I know the feeling!" She vented hotly before her husband squeezed her shoulder and she calmed down a little again. "Either way, you need to come back home for now."

Trip heaved a resigned sigh. "I don't think that's such a good idea Ma…"

"I don't care what _you_ think at the moment Charles!" She retorted before reining herself back in, tears in her eyes now. "I'm only saying how are we supposed to deal with this, support you, without even meeting this woman? The mother of…our…grandchild." She sighed again. "Do you understand where we're coming from?"

Trip's face softened. "Yeah Ma, of course… I'll see what I can do about some leave…for both of us, alright?"

"That's all we're asking." His father said quietly before the comm. system clicked off, leaving Trip hanging. He had a lot of explaining to do.

**A/n: So what do you think of my first unaided chapter? I'm especially nervous about whether the conversation was in character, I'm not great with dialogue at the best of times and this is the first time I've written Trip and T'Pol by myself! Please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/n: Hi! After almost a month, I'm back. I must again point out that I'm inexperienced at writing Enterprise fics. I haven't watched the whole series for a while so please forgive any mistakes I make regarding the Xindi plot arc. (I'd appreciate any guidance you can give me though) Thanks and enjoy.**

T'Pol eased herself slowly onto her meditation mat with a sigh and tried to let peace and relaxation wash over her, but instead agitated thoughts regarding Trip fluttered around her brain, behind the curtain her firmly closed eyelids tried to create. He'd indicated he would speak to his parents and meet her after her shift had finished, but it was now precisely one hour and fourteen minutes since her shift had ended and he had yet to materialise… Worry prickled her for a split millisecond and her hand flew up to her comm. badge, acting on the unconscious impulse to call him, but Vulcan pride, frequently more potent a force than logic, crushed the need before it had formed into a real thought. It doesn't matter what his parents think, they are a generation distant from this child, just as mine are… At that final, pressing thought, her eyes shot open and as she looked at her reflection in her floor length mirror and saw that her eyes were once again glassy with emotion. As she stared at herself she tilted her head in consideration, she should have known her true parentage, her brows were unusually pronounced for a Romulan, and her ears had always been pointed at a slightly different angle… She let out a gasp of frustration and clenched her hands in her lap; a _true_ Vulcan wouldn't even be thinking such irrational, irrelevant thoughts in the first place…

She was jerked out of her self contemplation by the sound of a door opening behind and she twisted round to face the intruder with the lightening quick reactions of a Vulcan desert cat, only to see an exhausted and tense looking Trip watching her, his sole greeting a terse "Hey."

"What happened?" she asked, her tone quiet but deadly serious.

He took a deep breath and set his broad shoulders back defensively before beginning to answer. "I spoke with my parents…" T'Pol sighed and turned away, afraid to read his expression if he confirmed her greatest fears, but this seemed to rile him and he grabbed her shoulder. "Don't you want to hear what they said?"

"I doubt it was anything encouraging…" She inhaled deeply as her voice wavered. "I don't need to hear their reasons for you not to stay with me, I can think of enough myself."

"T'Pol!" He exclaimed angrily, using his grip on her shoulder to force her to face him as he said his next words, "I have two unbeatable reasons for _staying_. One of them is my child and the other is that I _love _you." He waited until the effect of these words had shaken her stoic features before continuing, "I told them that in no uncertain terms, alright?"

T'Pol pressed her lips together guiltily, she had obviously judged too quickly. "Thank you Charles. Forgive me." His smile in response was passing and tired but sincere so she recollected herself enough to express curiosity. "What _did_ they say?"

Trip sighed and rubbed his forehead. "They were…shocked." T'Pol knew that he was deploying the human art of understatement. "But…" he added more cheerfully, "They were supportive once I made the situation, and my feelings, clear."

"And?" T'Pol prompted, sensing a catch.

Trip laughed nervously, "And they want to meet you. They want us to come home."

T'Pol choked, her eyes widening in fear. "To Earth?" When he nodded, her mind began to race, no, she couldn't do it, it was too close to Vulcan, too close to the eventual shame, her mother… "We can't. We're in the middle of a mission, pursuing the Xindi…"

"Don't you think I know all that?" He snapped hotly. "Do you really think I want to let those murdering scum go? Leave Jon in the lurch and go back to where Elizabeth…" His voice cracked painfully and T'Pol was sharply reminded that he had his own demons, his own _grief_, to confront at home.

She reached out and squeezed his hand. "Is that their only request of us?"

Trip gulped back the torrents of grief which had suddenly and unexpectedly overwhelmed him and focused back on her strained, but still beautiful, face. "Yeah...that was all they asked…"

"Then I suppose we'd better discuss our options with the Captain." She conceded in a whisper.

* * *

"Let…let me get this straight here…" Archer muttered as he paced though his ready room in agitation, Trip and T'Pol watching him from the couch in silence. "You both want to leave?"

"Not indefinitely Cap'n." Trip clarified anxiously. "Only for a little while, to…sort some stuff out."

Archer looked at them both and nodded slowly as understanding set in. "I can understand that, but we're in the middle of one of the most dangerous missions ever embarked on, a huge distance from Earth. If transport was arranged for you, you couldn't come back whenever you wanted…"

T'Pol stood up abruptly. "Of course not Captain. It was a selfish request. We cannot expect special treatment and you need us…"

Archer put his hand up to stop her. "I do, but it's perhaps selfish of _me_ to keep you here. God T'Pol, the moment I found out you were pregnant every protocol says I should've sent you straight back home, I've broken every rule already, by rights the Vulcan Government and Earth's should know about this…"

"Captain…" Both Trip and T'Pol began in a pleading tone.

"Don't worry about me saying anything." He told them firmly before sighing, "I'm only saying that once you're off this ship I can't protect you. You'd be on your own. Do you want that?"

Trip and T'Pol cast each other uncertain looks, it seemed so…final. Archer was about to open his mouth to speak again when the ship suddenly gave a sickening shudder and the sound of an explosion and the blare of Reed's Red Alert alarms simultaneously blasted their eardrums. "What the hell…" Trip began but was interrupted by Hoshi's panicked voice through the comm. system.

"Senior officers, report to the Bridge! Confirmed Xindi Attack!"

**A/n: I promise you won't have to wait long for an update, I finally know where I'm going with this (at least for the next couple of chapters) so I'll write much quicker than I have been doing. Please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

"Senior officers, report to the Bridge! Confirmed Xindi attack!" The barely reined in panic in Hoshi's voice told them more than the spoken words and all three ran from Archer's ready room as one. Trip and T'Pol went straight to their stations on autopilot, their personal concerns forgotten as they caught sight of the looming hulk of a Xindi vessel, its weapons fire easily split between the Enterprise and a slightly smaller, and much more heavily damaged, Earth vessel. "Status report!" Archer ordered, having to shout to make his voice heard over the din as he ran to the centre of the Bridge.

"Intense phaser fire and a torpedo to the port side, but shields are holding at 70%!" Reed answered, just as a second torpedo hit its target, forcing him to grip his console to stay upright as he amended his answer, "60%!"

Archer twisted his head round to shot his Chief Engineer an urgent glance, "Can you do anything about that Trip?"

"I'll do what I can Cap'n!" Trip replied hurriedly, brushing past T'Pol as he rushed to help his beloved ship.

T'Pol felt her blood freeze in sudden, overwhelming fear and anxiety as Trip disappeared into the turbolift and couldn't help but take her attention off her console just as Archer shouted a question to her, "T'Pol, identify that other ship! It looks like they may need our help fast…" He was cut off as the ship was once again shaken by phaser fire, "Evasive pattern Omega 3!" He called out to Travis, who immediately obeyed, before realising T'Pol had yet to answer him. "T'Pol!" he snapped sharply.

His voice jerked T'Pol out of her unexplainable stupor and she read her scans with lightning speed. "It's the U.S.S Orion. Their shields are down to 28% and the damage is severe…" She paused as her console indicated an emergency comm. link. "They're hailing us Captain!"

"Open a channel!" Archer said in a strident tone as he remembered his friend from training, Captain David McDonald, was in command of the Orion.

T'Pol did as she was instructed in record time and McDonald's haggard, anxious face, obscured by the smoke flowing from several consoles on his Bridge, appeared on the viewscreen. "This is Captain McDonald…of the U.S.S Orion…requesting assistance…" The comm. line crackled and spluttered as another explosion wracked the Orion.

"Mack, it's Jon Archer! What the hell happened?"

At the sound of his friend's voice, McDonald's tone changed from tight, controlled panic to astonishment and relief, "Jon! They ambushed us; we fought off the other two ships, but this one…"

"Take the pressure off the Orion Mr Reed! Attack pattern Delta 4!" Archer ordered. As Reed complied, the ship swung round, all phasers blazing, as the Orion tried to retreat.

Trip's voice suddenly rang through the Bridge, easing the weight of emotion from T'Pol's mind as he addressed the Captain. "I think this would be the perfect opportunity to try out my weapon enhancements Cap'n!" He called through, adrenaline pumping wildly through his veins as he shouted commands to his engineers at the same time he was talking to his Captain.

Archer barely thought it over, the weapon enhancements Trip had made using the deflector were untried, but there was no time like the present! "Do it Commander!"

Trip had obviously been expecting this answer because less than a minute later, the ship shuddered with pent up energy and a bright red flash filled the viewscreen.

"The Xindi vessel is retreating sir!" Travis reported from the helm.

"For now." T'Pol's sensitive Vulcan ears heard Archer mutter before, in a clearer tone, he said, "Well done everyone. Contact the Orion and see what they need."

* * *

"It seems I owe you a big favour Jon." McDonald said gratefully as he took the glass of Andorian wine Archer offered him in the privacy of the latter's ready room.

"How long do you think it'll take to make repairs?" Archer questioned in a low tone as he sat down across from his old friend.

McDonald sighed. "Out here? Who knows? My chief engineer was killed but thankfully the warp engines were spared…" He sighed regretfully. "Ward was a good man; still, it looks like he'll be buried in good old Earth soil…"

Archer interrupted him, "You're being sent out of the Delphic Expanse?"

"The powers that be don't think a ship with a shattered weapons array can get very far out here and I agree with them. We're to go as far as the maintenance station on the edge of the Expanse, and then we'll most likely be patched back up and sent back into this hellhole."

Archer processed this information in silence as an idea formed slowly in his brain. "You'll need a decent engineer to get you that far." He commented.

"They don't grow on trees Jon, we'll need to leave it to luck I think."

Archer gave a small smile. "My chief engineer and my chief science officer need to return to Earth urgently, would you mind giving them a ride?"

"The man who built that new weapon? You can't spare him surely, or either of them for that matter…"

Archer's brow furrowed in serious contemplation for a moment. "No, I can't spare them Mack, but I have to, for their own sakes." He told him honestly.

"Well, if you're willing to give them up, I'm definitely willing to take them."

Archer raised his glass with a wry, yet sad, smile. "It's only a temporary arrangement Mack, remember that."

* * *

"Jon! You can possibly expect us to leave now!" Trip exclaimed, his frustration heightened even more by T'Pol's resigned expression, "Not with Xindi crawling everywhere we look…"

"That's precisely why I'm advising you to go." Seeing both of his officers stiffen, he elaborated, "Look, today has proven how dangerous it is out here, you were both willing to risk it but your situation has changed…" He sighed in resignation, "It's a worry none of us need alright?"

T'Pol nodded reluctantly in agreement. "We understand Captain. We do not wish to compromise the crew."

"No, of course not, but…" Trip started until Archer put a firm hand o his shoulder, his eyes shifting between the couple.

"Your jobs will still be here, _we'll_ all still be here for you but you need to go." He smiled wanly as he saw wary acceptance dawn in Trip's eyes. "I expect to be made a godfather for my flexibility though."

"You can bet on it." Trip replied, in as light a tone as he could.

* * *

T'Pol moved sheepishly away from the Orion's large viewports as she heard Trip coming up behind her, shaking her head to clear the fog of threatening tears as she saw the Enterprise's silver hull become more and more distant from them. Trip's hand closed around hers as his eyes focused on the same sight. "Do you think we'll see it again?" he murmured in a low tone.

T'Pol snatched her hand away and frowned at him. "It is illogical to ask me such a question, it is impossible to answer!" She rebuked hotly, but Trip hardly flinched.

"Yeah, I suppose it is." He replied softly.

**A/n: I'm not particularly pleased with this chapter but at least I didn't leave you hanging for long. Please review and tell me what you think! :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/n: It's been 9 months since I last updated this, I'm so sorry! All I can blame is writers' block, but inspiration seems to have struck today so I'm going with it. Just to let you know I **_**will**_** edit out all the mistakes I've made considering comm. badges, replicators, shields, and other things that weren't around in Enterprise's century! Please make my day and review! :D**

The maintenance station wasn't much to look at. In fact, it could fairly have been described as decrepit. It seemed to have to fight to remain steady in space, its graviton array occasionally sending out a splutter of sparks which lit up the rusted debris floating aimlessly around it like a Ferengi scrap yard. Despite all this however, as T'Pol's eyes shifted away from the decidedly desolate scene to study Trip's face as he stood beside her, she was surprised to see a relieved, even pleased, smile fixed on his handsome features. As the Orion carefully manoeuvred, like a cat avoiding rain puddles, between the rusted space trash and the few other vessels brave or foolhardy enough to stray this close to the Delphic Expanse, it finally docked into the main maintenance bay. As the docking clamps closed with a resounding hiss, Trip felt some of the tension he'd been unconsciously holding in since Enterprise had been enveloped in the Xindi's darkness leave him and the smile he'd been forcing for T'Pol's benefit, not that Vulcans were supposed to notice contrary things like smiles, became more relaxed and genuine. "It's lookin' good for us now T'Pol."

T'Pol shot him a sharp glance, "I fail to see what you are referring to." She replied tersely, "This maintenance station gives the impression of being woefully unsupplied and undermanned."

Trip sighed; sometimes she was impossible to cheer up! "It's certainly not San Francisco…" He admitted with a wry chuckle, "…but it's surrounded by stars. I was starting to go insane trawling through that black void."

T'Pol quirked an eyebrow, "Starting to?" she remarked drily, the closest she got to out and out teasing, as Trip had gradually been discovering.

Trip laughed, remembering that she had been the logic sounding board for many of his frustrations during the journey. "Alright, so maybe I was quite far gone, but a guy doesn't become a starship Engineer to end up in the Milky Way's own no man's land does he?"

T'Pol pursed her lips slightly as she pondered his words, her own small sigh leaving her lips. "I suppose it is…pleasant to be within the bounds of known space again." She conceded softly as her hand unconsciously came to rest lightly on her abdomen. During the course of their ten week journey out of the expanse her pregnancy had been steadily progressing, Trip had been insisting for a month now that she was beginning to "show" as he put it, a conclusion she had until recently been dismissing as premature but now had to acknowledge as true.

She became aware of Trip's warm hand on the small of her back, an illogically comforting position. "Everything is going to work out hon." He murmured gently against her ear, "Our luck has been holding out so far…"

T'Pol stiffened and her jaw tensed as she interrupted in a low tone, "I cannot see what "luck" has to do with our current situation Charles."

"Well…" Trip began, his hand falling from her back as he moved to stand in front of her. "We haven't been attacked, which given this ship's condition is damned lucky, this maintenance station is still here even after all that's happened, whatever condition its in, and…" His expression softened in a way that reassured T'Pol inexorably and inexplicably, "…the baby is fine, isn't that all good luck sweetheart?"

T'Pol found herself smiling at him, "Yes, it undoubtedly is."

Trip's eyes warmed with affection and gratitude as he leaned in to kiss her in reply, but a heavy footsteps then an awkward chuckle behind them interrupted the moment. "I hope I'm not intruding…" Captain David "Mack" McDonald said kindly as they hurriedly turned to face the new arrival.

"Of course not Captain." T'Pol answered politely as Trip shook his head.

"You need me to help the crew start the overhaul, right Cap'n?" Trip asked quickly, already leaving T'Pol's side to head towards the door.

McDonald put a firm hand on the other man's shoulder to stop him. "Not now Trip, my crew can handle it from here on it." His gaze flickered between the couple, "Don't get me wrong, you've been godsends, I don't think we'd have gotten this far without your help…"

"No need for thanks Cap'n, you've helped us get out here when we needed to." Trip waved off his gratitude firmly.

"Alright, we're even." McDonald agreed, "But if you ever need a break from the Enterprise, look me up, I could use more officers like the two of you." He breathed a sigh then, tightness entering his tone. "I'll try to get a message through to Jon, tell him you're both safely here, but if you need _my_ support while he's out there, I'm happy to give it."

Trip started to smile gratefully in reply, but T'Pol, who'd noticed the uneasiness in his tone, asked concernedly, "Is there something amiss Captain?"

McDonald met her direct, questioning gaze, his face lined and weary with strain. "There's a member of the Vulcan High Council waiting for you inside the station T'Pol, she asked that you meet her there."

* * *

"Isn't it a little _illogical_ to send one of their high and mighty Council members all the way out here?" Trip fumed a few minutes later through gritted teeth as they walked through the tunnel connecting the Orion and the station. "I think we can decide what's right for our child without them poking their noses in! Look what they did to your mother, for God's sake…"

"Trip!" T'Pol snapped bitterly as they reached the doorway, "Remain silent during the interview…please."

Trip looked at her guiltily; he knew bringing up comparisons with her mother wouldn't help her cope at all. "I'm sorry hon, I'm just…angry." He told her regretfully, taking her hand and squeezing it. "I'm with you through all of this…" He very nearly added "crap" but thought better of it.

"I know." T'Pol whispered thickly as the door slid open and they were immediately confronted by a woman, the one T'Pol privately feared with an irrational intensity. "Representative T'Kesa!" she gasped out in shock, losing much of her composure as her stomach clenched painfully, if her morning sickness hadn't ceased already she probably would've vomited at that moment.

T'Kesa was almost impossibly imposing, Trip had always thought one Vulcan was as intimidating as another but this woman was as hard and as cold as an ice sculpture. She was tall, almost eye to eye with Trip, and her athletic frame was visible even under the official black robes she wore. Her hair was also inky black. Unlike most Vulcan women, hers had some length, but it was pinned back to such an extent that it looked a great deal more severe than T'Pol's pixie cut. The most starkly threatening feature on an otherwise regular face however, was her eyes, small and so pale grey they could be called colourless, reminding Trip of frozen winter lakes. "Sub-Commander T'Pol." She remarked in clipped tones, presumably all the greeting that was required. She ignored Trip completely. "You know me?" she asked T'Pol with a twitch of an elegant eyebrow.

Everyone knows you! T'Pol's mind screamed incredulously, but her actual reply was perfunctory, even rehearsed. "The wide-ranging nature of your work makes you well known Your Excellency."

"Ah." T'Kesa pronounced condescendingly as she looked T'Pol's figure up and down without a flicker in her expression. "You know why I am here then?"

T'Pol nodded silently but Trip was so riled by the woman's rudeness that he stepped forward, ignoring T'Pol's warning glare. "I'm sorry ma'am, but I _don't _know why you're here. I'd be grateful if you could explain."

T'Kesa's eyes narrowed but she again avoided addressing him directly, instead looking at T'Pol over his shoulder. "The father?"

"Yes." T'Pol stated, allowing herself to meet T'Kesa's gaze defiantly as Trip's grip around her hand tightened.

A small smirk passed over T'Kesa's lips for a millisecond before she faced Trip with an impatient sigh. "I am T'Kesa, Representative of the High Council and its Minister for Cultural and Moral Purity. I am here to take you both to Vulcan for…evaluation."

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


End file.
